Reunion
by nicol-leoraine
Summary: COMPLETE Sequel to Crossroads. Carter' s life is once again turned upside down, when one of his patient is killed right before him. The Sloans, along with Jesse Travis are in Chicago and they meet at Doc Magoo' s.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: The story is just mine, as in Nicol Leoraine. But I borrowed some of the characters (grin:-) otherwise it wouldn´t be a fanfic. Diagnosis Murder and all the characters and plot connected with the show is a property of CBS/Viacom. Anyone else you don´t recognize from the show, is probably just a piece of my mind, or a character from the other show, namely ER, which is a property of Warner Bros Television and its producers, more so to John Wells and Michael Crichton. Boys - I´m jealous like hell. Have a piece of your talent, I would be the luckiest person on the world. Just go on. Oh yeah, Steve Sloan and John Carter aren´t mine, even if I would like them.  
  
Feedback: Greatly appreciated, wanted, begged for and so on. You can write? Here´s the adress: or leoraineseznam.cz  
  
Webpage: or also www.sweb.cz/Leoraine/Leoraine.htm  
  
Category: Angst  
  
Rating: I think PG13 will do (hey, did you even see a kid who read fan fic under supervision of his parents? I didn´t.)  
  
Summary: This is a sequel to Crossroads. It happens around seventh season - right after the episode Benton Backwards. John encounter some old friends at Doc Magoo´s. Can they help him overcome the shock from being once again witness of a murder?.  
  
Spoilers: For Diagnosis Murder - Retribution, Obsession and Resurrection. As for ER - I think everything up to the episode Benton Backwards, mainly All In the Family and MayDay.  
  
Author´s notes: I know nothing about medical situations, so this will probably suck. I tried to make it as believable, as I could though.  
  
Thanks for the reviews, folks. They´re really helpful:-)  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Crossroads II - Reunion xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Diagnosis Murder/ ER fan fiction crossover by Nicol Leoraine  
  
Chicago, October 2000  
  
Another twelve hour shift ended and John Carter wearily walked out of the ER, not sparing a look to the activity round him. He was already bone tired - the events of the last week were haunting him in nightmares, and he once again found himself waking up in the kitchen. It was only seven p.m, and he wanted nothing more than lie down and sleep, but his NA meeting was beginning at nine, and most of the time would cost him only the ride home then back to the city, so he rather walked into Doc Magoo´s and ordered a steak with fries. Not the healthier food, but he needed some proteins and honestly - he liked steak.  
  
The food on the plate before him was half eaten, when the doors opened, and three people walked in, laughing. John looked up reflexively, thinking about times, when he was laughing like that - and his fork froze in mid-motion. John blinked, eyeing the three men, sitting down at the table straight before him. One of them was an elderly man with white mustache and a wide grin on his face. John knew him. The second was a tall guy, his hair a color of sand. The third one, animatedly flapping both hands was a short, young man, not older than John. The trio was ignoring the rest of the guests, giving John a chance to watch them.  
  
Yes, it was him, thought John with a grin and remembered the time he spent in Los Angeles, so long ago. They helped him - that time. And now, after all the shit that happened to him this year, they were here again. Maybe he could finally talk with someone - no the talking he made with the psychiatrist in Atlanta, or with Dr. DeRaad, after the whole stabbing and rehabilitation. No, he thought about talking without a feeling, that your listener is ready to put a strait-jacket on you, or drug you to oblivion. He put down the fork and wanted to call at them, when another thought stopped him. What would they think about him? That he´s a narcoman? What could a doctor and a cop think about him?  
  
No, it was enough that he was under the microscope in the hospital - seeing the disappointment on the faces of another person who meant something to him, was the last thing he needed. John shook his head and wanted to call at the waitress to pay for the steak - which was still sitting on his plate, almost untouched. John´s appetite vanished.  
  
But the waitress stopped at the table before him, asking for orders and John cursed under his breath, when the woman cheving a bubble gum turned and walked away.  
  
So, he would wait. They didn´t saw him, and anyway - it was almost twenty years. They couldn´t possibly recognize him after so much time. John watched the trio, trying hard to listen to the conversation, but in the music playing from the radio, the talk of the other customers and the blaring sirens of the ambulance coming to the County, it was almost impossible. He so intently watched the doctor and his son, that he didn´t notice the third man watching him. But the man noticed him and quietly spoke with the other two. Steve and Mark turned and it was John who was under observation. He quickly looked away, picking at his cold food with a fork. He didn´t dare to look at them, but someone put a hand on his table and he didn´t have a choice. Their eyes met and after a second of hesitation, an uncertain smile appeared on Steve´s face.  
  
"John?" asked the cop still not sure. John wasn´t quick enough to respond, when the older man appeared next to him, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"Carter? Is that you?"  
  
"Uhm... Dr. Sloan, Steve," It was futile to deny his identity anymore, so John smiled and let himself be hugged. "What are you doing in Chicago?"  
  
"Attending a boring medical conference," said Steve smirking, while his eyes inspected the boy. Yeah, he grew up, but that haunted look didn´t vanish. Somehow it seemed to be permanently fixed in his eyes. While Steve watched John´s face, Mark noticed the pallor and the tiredness creeping from his body.  
  
"I didn´t know you changed your profession, Steve," said John, suddenly glad that the Sloans spotted him.  
  
"Nah, I´m just accompanying dad and Jesse. Oh," Steve turned and the young man with amused expression stepped forward, so they could shake hands.  
  
"This is Dr. Jesse Travis. He´s working with dad in Community General. Jesse, this is John Carter. A friend of ours."  
  
"Glad to meet you, Dr. Travis."  
  
"Please, only Jesse."  
  
"John. What´s your specialisation?"  
  
"ER medicine. And yours?"  
  
"Oh, John is not a doctor," answered Steve while John said:  
  
"Emergency medicine, too. I´m a resident at Cook County."  
  
"What?!" exclaimed Steve as both John and Jesse grinned at each other.  
  
"Yeah, I´d some good influence in the past," he looked at Mark, who had a proud look in his eyes, and John was suddenly ashamedly watching his boots, knowing, that this proud look will change into disappointment, once Mark will find out what happened.  
  
"That´s really great, John," all three of them noticed the sudden change of mood and Jesse threw a curious look at his friends, but they could only shrug.  
  
"Yeah, it´s a great job," answered John recollecting himself. "How long are you staying?"  
  
"We planned three days, after that dad must return to L.A."  
  
"Ah, you´re still in the force?"  
  
"At homicide now. Lieutenant Detective."  
  
"Gratulations. Three days - that´s plenty of time. You want some tour guide through the city?"  
  
"Sure, that will be fine. We can talk about old times - change news." Steve said enthusiastically.  
  
"You have time?" asked Mark, pointing at his steak. John looked at his watch and realized, that it was almost eight.  
  
"Half hour, than I have a meeting... sorry, can´t delay it."  
  
"That´s okay. Would you mind a little company?"  
  
"Nah, sit down."  
  
"Cook County, that´s a pretty good hospital," began Jesse.  
  
"Not the safest place on earth, but we have a good team," as if on cue, Abby Lockhart walked in, ordering some food. She spotted Carter and nodded at him. John sighed and waved at her to come, while she waited for the food. Abby eyed the three man, smiling slightly, even if her face had a tired look.  
  
"Hey, Dr. Carter. I thought you´re home,"  
  
"I have a meeting, you know. It was useless to ride home, then back."  
  
"Yeah, well... you´re lucky to be out. We´re waiting for some GSW, Luka is nowhere to be found and Weaver is as charming as ever. You better not be in the bay when the ambulance comes, because you´ll never get away." She blurred it out in one stride and Steve watched her with a fascination. How can someone talk so quickly?  
  
"Ah, I want to introduce you our angel in white, Abby Lockhart." Abby wasn´t so white, because her face went red at the compliment.  
  
"Abby, this is Dr. Mark Sloan, head of the Community General in Los Angeles,"  
  
"Only a chief of internal medicine," corrected him Mark.  
  
"His son Steve Sloan, detective from homicide, L.A. And Dr. Jesse Travis, he´s working in the ER."  
  
"Hi," answered Abby, when the waitress came, the food in her hands. The air was filled with a wailing siren of an ambulance, and Abby´s pager beeped.  
  
"Oh, I should go. Glad to meet you. Good night, John."  
  
"Well, that was short."  
  
"It seems Chicago isn´t much behind L.A. in the deliquency rate," observed Jesse.  
  
"No, it´s quite wild in there. Uh, look, I should go too, or I´ll be late. I assume that you´ll be attending the conference... what about you, Steve?"  
  
"I´m free for the day."  
  
"Great! I´m home for tomorrow, so I can make you company."  
  
"What about a breakfast? I know about a good place. And when the doctors free themselves from the conference, you´re all invited to my house for a dinner."  
  
"Sounds good to me," agreed Steve. They changed directions then John paid the waitress and rushed away, looking at his watch nervously. He almost stumbled about a table, quickly recovered and was gone.  
  
"Now, can you tell me, what was that all about?" asked Jesse Travis, seeing the concerned expression on the faces of both Sloans.  
  
"I don´t know, but I don´t like it. He looks just like the first time I saw him, but..."  
  
"It can´t be the same thing, Steve," argued his father gently.  
  
"Can anyone tell me, who was this guy? And how did you know him?" pushed Jesse. They ignored him.  
  
"You´ll have a whole day to talk with him, Steve."  
  
"Hello? Hey, Earth to Steve," shouted Jesse and waved a hand before Steve. The detective revived and smirked at his father.  
  
"You´re right, dad. I made him talk when he was kid, I can do it again. What detective would I be otherwise?"  
  
"Perhaps a deaf one," muttered Jessie as Mark laughed.  
  
"Okay, Jesse. Did you heard about the ranch of Jenny Prescott?"  
  
"No. Should I?"  
  
While Mark replied, the waitress came with their food. When the trio get out from Doc Magoo´s, Jessie was well acquinted with the history of the case. The ambulance came to a halt not so far away and they could see Abby Lockhart assisting a red haired woman with crutch to download the patient. After the ambulance started away, the street quieted down and the trio headed for their hotel.  
  
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The meeting was as boring, as it could be. A boy, not even a man by now, was talking about how his friends in the club drugged him, then gave him another dose for free. For the third he had to pay, and it wasn´t a small price. But after the first symptoms of withdrawal, he took his discman and sold it. In the months following, he stole most of the stuff from his family, friends, while his parents thought it a work of his older brother, who was coming only for the weekend and had a label of a bounder. But then he was caught in the act, while stealing in the shop and the judge sent him here. John was listening only with half ear and after the meeting ended, he walked away on autopilot, deep in thoughts.  
  
What will he tell him? His past was one big mistake. Everyone died or get away from him. He was alone and feeling more than a little depressed. How could he not? Only two days ago someone killed a woman right before his eyes. Shot her in the head like an animal. And he was trying so hard to save her. He couldn´t even imagine what must felt Luka, knowing the man he hit was dead. But then, he remembered the people who died under his care or his friends. Gant was the first who came to his mind, then Lucy...  
  
"No, I can´t go back, not now!" he muttered to himself, crossing the street. He had his life back - maybe not perfect, but still there. He had his work and hope to make it all work again. No, he just must overcome the shock from that.... murder.  
  
For a second he thought if perhaps he should go to the hotel Steve mentioned they´re staying at, or after Dr. Benton. No, none of it was an option. Peter Benton had enough of his own problems - crawling before Romano was only one of them. Going after Steve was maybe inviting, but then there would be questions and he wasn´t prepared for the answers.  
  
His grandmother was waiting for him, sitting in the living room, savouring the heat emanating from the fireplace. She looked up, her eyes observing his features, like every night he came back from work and meetings. She knew about his problems in work and wanted nothing more than pull him from the lair of snakes. Seeing only a job that is crushing him, she was prepared for fight, but John knew that his only chance was to stay in County. If he started some petty private practice, he would go nuts in a moment. Treating rich patients with insignificant problems wasn´t his idea of work. Setting up for another match, he took down his coat and kissed Millicent on her left cheek, not sitting down.  
  
"Hi, Gamma."  
  
"John... how was your day?"  
  
"Fine. Nothing thrilling, just the usual stuff."  
  
"You was on the meeting?"  
  
"Yes, Gamma. Why do you think I´m home so late?" John was becoming angrier by every moment and Millicent Carter put a placating hand on his arm, indicating for him to sit down. John obeyed.  
  
"I´m sorry, John. I just want to make sure, you´re okay."  
  
"I´m, really,"  
  
"Maybe you should take a little vacation..."  
  
"No!" objected John abruptly. "I-I just need time, Gamma. I´ll be okay."  
  
Millicent sighed and patted his grandson´s hand reassuringly. "I hope so, John."  
  
They sat in silence for a moment.  
  
"Ah, I forgot to ask you... I´d met some old friends. They´re here for the conference, but I... well, I invited them for a dinner. It wouldn´t be a problem?"  
  
"No, of course not, John," Millicent smiled, excited. "Do I know them?" she asked curious.  
  
"Maybe," smirked John. "They´re really old friends of mine."  
  
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The girl was stabilized. John let out a relieved sigh and was prepared to call for a nurse and clean himself from all the blood, when the woman came in. She was young and asked, how´s she doing. Carter, proud at his work, smiled.  
  
"She´ll live." Then the time slowed down and he saw a gun appear in her hand. He looked at it in amazement, knowing what will happen. She´ll pull the trigger, and kill his patient. He heard two shots and turned to the woman lying in the bed, wanting to save her, to do something. John gasped. Those eyes...  
  
"...help me, John," it was not his patient. The blond hairs spread over the pillow, stained red. The lips moved in silent plea, along with John´s.  
  
"No, Lucy..."  
  
He tried to save her. One of the bullets pierced her neck, and the red blood was streaking out. The second bullet was near her heart. He knew, that she would die. He saw the horror in her eyes, the warning as he turned. The gun was aiming at him, but it wasn´t the same hand holding it. John gasped for breath as all the fear, all the hate returned, along with the pain.  
  
"Sobriki!" he hissed and saw only the wicked smile and the bullet, flying to him.  
  
John bolted upright with a cry of No! on his lips, trembling and gasping for breath, choking down the sobs. Not again! The nightmares were back, with full force. The main reason for his addiction, the reason of all changes in his life. Yesterday, it was just the two women plaguing his dreams. Now it was Sobriki and Lucy. Back to square one, John muttered to himself and scrambled from the bed. It was impossible to fell asleep again - even the thought of sleep made him sick to his stomach. He needed a shower, quickly. Standing up a stab of pain shot up his back and his heart almost stopped. Not again! his mind shouted, then he saw a bruise and with a relief remembered how he was pushed to the regal by one of his patients. He massaged the spot, eyes stopping at the scars. They looked angry even almost eight months after the incident.  
  
Angry and raw like his mind, reeled John as he stripped down and turned on the shower. Spraying his body with hot water helped. After Luka sent him home, he was in the shower for an hour, trying to wash down the blood, imagined and real alike. He was really thankful, that his grandmother was in the city and not home at the time he came in. It would be hard to stop her effort to change his mind.  
  
When his body finally relaxed, John stopped the shower, dried himself with a towel and dressed. Looking at his watch he realised it was still too soon to get to work - then it struck him, that he wasn´t working today. He nevertheless walked down the steps, silently, so as not to wake up Millicent, and came to the kitchen. He turned on the radio lowering the volume then picked out a mug and started to make a hot chocolate, putting some cookies on the plate. He had all morning to think about what he would tell Steve.  
  
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"Man, this is the best hot-dog I ever had. Hm, you think I can have the recipe?" asked Steve, licking the sauce from his fingers. John only laughed.  
  
"I doubt it. The man wasn´t even talking English."  
  
They was in the Lincoln park, heading for the Zoo, as it seemed the best place for talk. The morning air was a little cold and Steve, not used to this climate, was glad for the warm leather jacket he wore, sipping at the hot coffee. The breakfast John promised, was a hot-dog stand, but Steve was glad he wouldn´t have to cruise the town alone. When John picked him up a hour ago, Steve spotted the dark circles around his eyes, but didn´t ask. Instead, he started to tell John what happened in L.A. after he returned to Chicago. John listened, excited to hear that Steve was promoted thanks to his case.  
  
"Now, tell me, how´s it you became a doctor?" asked Steve after they paid the tickets at the zoo.  
  
"Whew, I don´t really know myself. After I returned from L.A., I thought a lot about your dad and his work. And the truth was, I couldn´t hate the profession only because of my brother. They tried and I knew - well, now I know," he corrected himself with a smile, "that doctors aren´t gods, and they can´t save everyone. But I wanted to help, and doing a family business somehow wasn´t in my plans. It still isn´t. I took the medicine, and I like the job." Even if he was telling the truth, Steve recognized a hint of hesitation in his voice.  
  
"But something is troubling you?"  
  
John was taken aback by the question, and quickly shook his head.  
  
"T´s nothing," he mumbled absently touching his back, then quickly recollecting. "So you´re still free? No wife, no kids?"  
  
"No, I´m still free," chuckled Steve. "You know, I´ve the worst record of women in the history of L.A."  
  
"I don´t believe it," laughed John. "Guy like you? The girls must stand in a line,"  
  
"Yeah, it´s a shame they´re mostly killed or want to kill me," It was said smugly and John didn´t laugh anymore.  
  
"Sorry. It must be hard to be a cop."  
  
"Not harder then a doctor. You wouldn´t believe, but my father could get into more problems than I."  
  
"Knowing Dr. Sloan, it can be right," chuckled John. "He´s still living in that beach house?"  
  
"Yeah. Don´t laugh now - I´m living there too."  
  
John sighed.  
  
"You´re lucky, man. How´s it, anyway?"  
  
"Well, my apartment was ruined in the earthquake, so I moved in, and I didn´t felt like moving out later."  
  
"Man, it seem´s like our apartments are doomed to destruction. The one I lived in was consumed by fire. My neighbour, who was sick and had an oxygen bomb next to her bed, was also a tough smoker. I warned her, not to smoke near the oxygen, but she didn´t listen. It pretty much exploded and the fire ruined my apartment. But she survived."  
  
"Where are you living now?"  
  
"At gamma. I had an apartment in town, but after the accident-" John stopped himself. He didn´t want to go there.  
  
"Accident?"  
  
"Nothing, Steve. No explosion, no-" killer, he wanted to say, but stopped, because it wasn´t true. There was a killer, there was a victim.  
  
"Carter," just a name uttered in hushed voice. But there was concern and interest behind it, and more important, there was a friendship offered by one simple word.  
  
"Her name was Lucy. She was my student. I-I was responsible for her, Steve," said John, his voice tight with pain and fear. Steve navigated him to the nearest bench and they sat down, watching the animals crossing in the cage.  
  
"What happened?" asked Steve gently.  
  
"We often argued. I don´t know why, well... I did know, but it´s not important now. She was my student and I should´ve helped her. But I was busy. It was Valentines Day and... there was a party running in the lounge. We had a patient... Paul S-Sobriki," John stuttered the name and shook. "He had a severe headache. Lucy was taking care of him - I was supervising. But I had things to do and... we did an LP-"  
  
"What´s it?"  
  
"Lumbal puncture. It´s not the most pleasant test and he was more than a little annoyed, but I still left Lucy. Later - she told me, that he´s probably psychotic. I only told her to call psych consult, and walked away." There was a misery in John´s face that held all the guilt and regrets he had. Steve thought about stop John from talking, if the events were so painful, but he changed his mind. Carter evidently needed to talk and Steve was a cop for too long - he couldn´t supress his curiousity.  
  
"The party was running, there was even a cake. I was ready to take a break, but I needed something from Lucy, so I walked to curtain three. I thought it´s empty. I spotted a Valentine card on the floor - turned to pick it up." John stopped, gulped down the coffee and threw the empty cup to the trashcan.  
  
"What happened?" asked Steve after a minute of silence.  
  
"I felt pain in my back. It was... excruciating. I didn´t know what´s happening, only felt the knife being pulled out and stab again-"  
  
"God!" Steve was shocked. How could someone hurt this kid? Why?  
  
"I-I fell," continued John, insensible to the concern in Steve´s voice. "t-then... I saw... Lucy. She was on the ground, lying... lying in the pool of her own blood. He stabbed her several times. I tried to call for help... to move... but the pain was too strong."  
  
"Someone found you?"  
  
"Kerry Weaver, our chief. She needed to see some x-rays. It´s a blurr after that. I woke up in the trauma because of the pain... there was some cop asking me, if I saw the guy who did it... I didn´t. I-I was really scared. I don´t know what´s worse... to be a patient who don´t know a thing about medicine or a doctor, who knows, what is going on."  
  
"I think both is a wrong feeling," said Steve with a smirk of his own.  
  
"I saw Benton working on Lucy. I get a look at her - for a second. She was white as a sheet. They have to crack her chest, twice. It didn´t help. She died for pulmonary embolism. She was so young, Steve."  
  
"I´m sorry for her, John, but I´m glad you´re alive. Are you okay, now?"  
  
"Yeah, almost as new. It wasn´t so serious after all."  
  
Something in his voice didn´t convince Steve, but it wasn´t the time to question him, not after this revelation.  
  
"I see we had both some problems in the last few years."  
  
"Don´t tell me you were stabbed, too,"  
  
"Oh, stabbed? I don´t really remember that one... No, I was in the middle of the crossfire. Took two in the chest, one in the gut. Flat-lined twice only in the ambulance. I think I scared my dad to death," Steve was grinning, but John saw regret in his eyes and understood him.  
  
"Yeah, Gamma too freaked out, when she get there. It had to be pretty serious with you..." Steve only shrugged.  
  
"Don´t really remember it. I was in coma for few weeks. When I get to consciousness, I found out, that my dad is in the jail, accused by a murder of a man, who shot me."  
  
"No kidding!" exclaimed John unbelieving. His problems seemed like nothing in the light of Steve´s experience.  
  
"I don´t believe your dad killed someone!"  
  
"He didn´t. It was a trap. My own partner arrested him, because of some false evidence. And the judge insisted on the extreme punishment."  
  
"You don´t talk about-"  
  
"Lethal injection."  
  
"Shit!" was all John could muster up. "How did he get out?"  
  
"It was just a distraction. My shooting, dad in prison, even the mob war. The Trainors wanted to clear some bank accounts. After four months, dad was free."  
  
"Four months? Whew, pretty rough." They were walking again.  
  
"Did you have nightmares from it?" asked John warily.  
  
"Few. I was afraid dad would be executed. The shooting I don´t really remember." After a thoughtful look at John, Steve asked:  
  
"You have nightmares?"  
  
John winced and nodding said "No."  
  
"Why did you ask, then?"  
  
"Only curious."  
  
"You know, you look a little tired, John."  
  
"I said I´m okay, Steve. It was a rough week in the hospital." John was getting sick from the questions about his welfare. At least, Steve wasn´t a doctor. He asked as a friend. But what would he do, if he knew about the addiction? John´s mood darkened, then he thought about what Steve told him. His life wasn´t any easier and he wasn´t complaining or whinning like a spoiled brat. Yeah, that´s me. A spoiled brat with a talent to mess up everything.  
  
"Hey, what if we talk about some good things? I´ll be there only three days, I want to make the best out of them."  
  
"Sure. You can start," smiled John.  
  
"Well, you know, I´m not only a detective. I´ve another job, too."  
  
"Yeah? What´s it?"  
  
"I own a little barbecue. Exactly, I and Jesse Travis."  
  
"Dr. Travis?" John was surprised. "You´re pulling my leg, right?"  
  
"No!" protested Steve. "I´m telling you the truth. We´re doing the best ribs on the West Coast. Or in L.A.," added Steve.  
  
"Man, I´m heading for L.A. the next vacation,"  
  
"You´re welcome. Just let us know to prepare a spare bedroom."  
  
"Thanks, Steve. It helps to talk with someone who´s not trying to bully me with some psycho babble. I´d enough of it for my whole life."  
  
"As I said, you´re welcome."  
  
The silence was for once comfortable. Though it was John who broke it.  
  
"So, tell me something about Dr. Travis. He seems like a good guy. A little young for doctor..."  
  
"Hey, who´s talking? You´re not older than Jesse. I bet some of your patients in the first year was asking, if you didn´t get lost from the school group." John fixed him a stern look, then burst out laughing. It was a good feeling.  
  
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The day was slowly coming to end. Steve and John crossed the city in John´s Jeep making small shopping, Steve even pulled John up to the Sears tower, to look down at the city. They talked, mostly about work. Steve related some of his cases to John, as he told him about some of the more exciting patients they have on the ER.  
  
"No kidding, he had what?"  
  
"An axe in his head. He wasn´t in any pain, just came inside screaming to get the thing out of him," laughed John. "I remember him complaining that they had to shave his head. I think it was the most concerning matter for him at the time,"  
  
"He survived okay?"  
  
"Well, his hair-style wasn´t so "cool" anymore, but other than that, there was no actual harm, besides the fractured skull. Somehow the axe missed the brain - don´t ask how - maybe he didn´t have any."  
  
They were slowly walking up the stairs to the University, where the conference ran. The doors opened and a group of people rushed out.  
  
"Dad!" Steve called at his father, who was deep in discussion with a short, bald headed man. Jesse was looking simply bored and he quickly ran to them.  
  
"Oh, shit," cursed John, seeing with whom is Mark talking.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Romano," was a reply.  
  
"You know that guy?" asked him Travis and John a little annoyed, nodded.  
  
"Unfortunately. He´s working in the hospital, one of my chiefs."  
  
"The guy is an..."  
  
"...idiot? Pesky? Provoking?" Jesse was little taken aback, then smiled.  
  
"Yeah, you can say that. Where did he study medicine? In Auschwitz?"  
  
"He may be an annoying guy, but he´s one of the best chirurgs," John defended him despite his own dislike of the man.  
  
"Why is Dr. Sloan talking to him?"  
  
"Oh, they´re just discussing some matter of how to lead the hospital. Something about funds, and patient care..."  
  
John let out an unhappy sigh, watching the two men. They didn´t seem to be arguing, but who can tell? Robert Romano smiled, and Mark Sloan nodded, but John couldn´t see his face. Then Romano spotted John, eyed him in the company of Travis and frowned.  
  
"Oh hell," muttered John and looked if he could hide somewhere. Mark and Romano were approaching them and Romano looked as if he eat the canary.  
  
"Ah, who I don´t see? Dr. Carter!" exclaimed Romano with a grin. Mark seemed a little surprised.  
  
"Well, Dr. Sloan - you wanted an excursion - here´s your guide. Carter - you´re tomorrow on twelve hour shift, am I right?"  
  
"Yes, Dr. Romano," answered Carter politely, even if it was hard.  
  
"Great. You can show Dr. Sloan and Dr. Travis our ER. If it isn´t a problem,"  
  
"Not at all," John actually smiled at Mark.  
  
"Dr. Sloan... I think we will see each other tomorrow. I hope you´ll find our hospital functioning quite effectively. Carter - someone from the police investigating that murder wanted to talk with you. In the Lounge, at eight a.m., tomorrow. Don´t be late." With that Romano turned and walked away, while John was looking at his retreating back, fuming and hardly containing himself not to call after him and tell him, what he thinks. How could the bastard...! Why didn´t he told them about his addiction as well? John´s anger was quite visible, his hands clenched in fist.  
  
"John? What murder?" asked Steve, always the cop.  
  
John shook his head to clear it out.  
  
"One patient was killed - three days ago. But I told them everything and they should´ve caught her. Maybe they want me to identify her, I don´t know."  
  
"You saw the killer?"  
  
"Yeah," admitted John hesitantly. "It was a young woman. I just saved her life, when the other woman came and asked, if she will live. I told her-" John abruptly stopped.  
  
"It doesn´t matter, anyway. We should go to the car," John took few steps, when a hand stopped him. It was Steve. John turned to face him, while Mark coughed.  
  
"Jesse - isn´t it Dr. Horwath? I wanted to ask him some questions about his lecture. You coming with me?"  
  
But Jesse watched John, curious. Mark grabbed him and pulled away, giving him a glare. Carter sighed. They was alone.  
  
"What?" he snorted, frustrated by the situation, angry at Romano.  
  
"You say. What happened, John? I want the truth."  
  
"Why? You don´t even know me, Steve! I´m not twelve anymore. It isn´t about my brother or parents. It´s nothing."  
  
"No, if it was nothing, you would´ve told me. I see that you´re not sleeping, you asked me about nightmares and said you had a rough week. Now this guy is talking about murder."  
  
"And what? Look Steve - I´m not who you think. I´m not an innocent boy who needs a big brother. I watched die more people than I ever wanted, most of them were my friends. You don´t know a shit about me, Sloan!"  
  
"So tell me! You´re questioning yourself, John. Again! Why? Because you couldn´t save your friend? It was an accident. Even I could tell that,"  
  
"No, you can´t! I should be there!"  
  
"But you was, John! And you got nearly killed!"  
  
"Yeah, so? What´s the difference? Everyone dies. Bobby, Gant, Lucy... Chase is brain damaged... you want more?"  
  
"You´ve a life before you, John. You´re a good doctor, and good man. Don´t let your past ruin you."  
  
John let out a bitter laugh, surprising Steve.  
  
"Yeah, good doctor, and good man. Don´t let the past ruin you, huh? Well, let me tell you something, Steve. I ruined my life quite effectively - myself! I´m an addict, Steve! A fucked narcoman, that´s who I am!" he hissed, all the anger dissipating with those words.  
  
"A narcoman. I can´t apply medications alone, just under supervision. I´m tested on weekly basis, and I have to attend NA mettings. I returned to work only last month - I was three months in Atlanta on detox! I have to repeat the whole year of residency, because of that. No, Steve... you don´t know me a bit."  
  
That´s it, thought John and turned, not wanting to see a disappointment on Steve´s face. He couldn´t take it - not after he let down so many people. Dr. Benton, his gamma, even Mark Green and Kerry Weaver.  
  
"Good bye, Steve," he mumbled and walked away. Steve was frozen in place. John - a narcoman? He still heard the words, and his brain was only slowly registering, that John is gone.  
  
"Carter!" yelled Steve and started to run towards the Jeep. John was sitting inside, unmoving. He didn´t hear him, because the music was turned on full scale, but he didn´t care. Starting the engine, John stepped on the gas, then slamped at the brakes, as someone jumped before his car. The Jeep stopped and John get out, angry.  
  
"What do you thing you´re doing, Sloan? Trying to get killed on my account?!" screamed John and wanted nothing more then hit someone.  
  
Steve only stood, unharmed, with a concerned frown. Mark and Jesse were watching from far away, shocked by the display of an argument between the two.  
  
"No, I´m trying to stop you, before you kill someone else, probably yourself," answered Steve in a controlled voice. "John, we need to talk."  
  
Carter was staring at him, incredulous. He wanted to talk with him?  
  
"Why?" he asked.  
  
"Because I care. And I don´t want to let you ruin everything for someone, whom you didn´t even know."  
  
"What are you talking about, Sloan?"  
  
"I thought we´re past that Sloan thing. You´re not a kid anymore, so stop acting like one. Now, go to the car. Maybe you don´t care what people say about you, but I won´t discuss drugs before the whole college." John looked around and his face turned red. There were students, watching him and Steve curiously, along with few professors. Maybe they didn´t hear their conversation, but they sure as hell saw how Steve jumped in the way of the Jeep.  
  
"Okay," said John , seated himself in his car and turned down the blaring radio. Steve sit next to him, closed the door and looked at him intently.  
  
"I´m sorry," muttered John, watching his hands.  
  
"You should be," was the answer and John abruptly looked up. He wasn´t used to the stern tone, he expected pity, disappointment or even anger. Not the stern, fatherly tone, that should be used by Mark or his parents. But Steve?  
  
"W-hat?"  
  
"You should be sorry like hell, John! For thinking, that I´ll just turn and walk away. For not telling me. For turning to drugs rather than your friends!" Steve was now clearly angry, and it was an emotion John could deal with.  
  
"What friends?!" he replied with sarcasm. "It was a hard time, Steve. My parents didn´t even come to see me. It took them three weeks to buy a ticket and come from Tokyo. My friends? I didn´t feel like I have one, not then. Lucy was dead - and I loved her. Yeah, everyone was concerned. But how could I talk with them? They wasn´t there, they didn´t understood. I was lying on the ground and could only watch her dying. Hell, I didn´t even know what hit me, and if it´s not coming back to end it. Then Benton told me she´s dead, and everything changed. Perhaps I could´ve told someone, but I was afraid that they wouldn´t let me come back. That they will think I´m too weak to return.  
  
Maybe I thought, that it will go away. Everyone said, that time will make it better, and I believed them. I was sent home, and physically, I was doing just fine. But I had to take pills, because of some hematome near my spine. I was in constant pain. After a while, it get better and I returned to work."  
  
"You still took the medication?"  
  
"Yeah, it was prescribed, though I took higher dosage. It was hard to work, not only because of the pain, but there was all the pity and reminder of the incident. I couldn´t go to Curtain 3 where it happened without being sick. But the days wasn´t so wrong as the nights."  
  
"Nightmares?"  
  
"I was so exhausted after the work, that I practically dropped to my bed, asleep. Then came the nightmares, and I couldn´t stay in bed longer than two in the morning. When I got to work, I was exhausted and my back was killing me. So I took a pill, to keep going on. There was some difficult patient? I took a pill."  
  
"How long did you hide it?"  
  
"Almost three months. I didn´t have a prescribtion anymore. There was a patient - I was repairing his hip, and he kicked me. I hit the wall and man, I saw stars. When I stayed alone, I grabbed the Fentanyl that was left on the table and... took it. Abby walked in and saw me. She later told Green and Weaver, and they called a little "hearing board". I had a chance - go to Atlanta, or get fired. I took the second."  
  
"They fired you? But..."  
  
"I walked out," conceded John. "But Dr. Benton didn´t let me. He came after me and... well, he mentioned some things, that changed my mind."  
  
"Just like that?" asked Steve dubiously, and John bitterly laughed.  
  
"No, not just like that. He got me pretty angry and I- well, I hit him."  
  
"You?" Now Steve was really surprised.  
  
"Yeah, me. I hit the man that saved my life in the OR, then practically broke down. Hour later I was on the plane heading for Atlanta."  
  
There was a thoughtful silence in the car while both men weighed their words.  
  
"You´re clean now?"  
  
"Yeah, and I want to stay clean, for the rest of my life. I learned to manage the pain without medication."  
  
"Good," stated Steve, satisfied and patted Carter on the arm. "John, I´m not glad that you turned to drugs. But I´m not here to judge you, you´re pretty good at it yourself. I hope you wouldn´t do such a stupid thing again, though. And if you need a friend, you can call me at any moment. Or my dad. I think you can talk with your friends - try not to judge them also. Oh - and I think we should pick up my dad and Jesse, before they´ll assume, that we killed each other.  
  
"Thanks, Steve," acknowledged him John in quiet voice.  
  
"You´re welcome," answered Steve and waved at his father and Jesse. They hastily came to the car, eyeing the duo inside. When John smiled, Jesse let out a sigh and got in, while Mark questioningly gazed at his son. Steve only shook his head - it wasn´t on him to tell his father about John.  
  
"It´s almost seven. Do you want to drop by the hotel or we´re going straight to me?"  
  
"Uh, I´d rather change. It wouldn´t be a formal dinner, will it?" asked Travis, taking down the tie.  
  
"Just me and my grandmother. I´m living at her house for a while."  
  
"She knows we are coming?" asked Mark practically.  
  
"Yeah, I told her."  
  
"Hm. Did she remember who we are?"  
  
"I didn´t say your name, Dr. Sloan," smirked John and turned to the right, parking by the hotel.  
  
"I´ll be quick," said Jesse hopping out of the Jeep. Mark was frowning at his son, who was wearing jeans ad shirt under the jacket, but didn´t say anything. He too get out of the car.  
  
"So, you at your grandmothers place?"  
  
"Yeah,"  
  
"Hm. If I remember correctly, the last time I saw you, you were a millionair."  
  
"No, Steve, my family is rich, not me,"  
  
"How big is the house?"  
  
"Uhm, I´ve seen bigger."  
  
"Yeah? Where?"  
  
"For example, the White House is much bigger," stated John with a smile. "You´ll see for yourself, Steve. Why are you asking?"  
  
"Just want to know, if I should get a tie for that dinner of yours."  
  
"Nah, if it would be necessary, I can lend you one."  
  
"Thanks for the warning. I´m wondering what will Jesse do. He doesn´t know how rich your family is, he thinks that you´re living in a petty little house."  
  
"Well, Dr. Travis will be little surprised."  
  
After ten minutes of waiting, Jesse and Mark returned, both dressed differently. Jesse eyed Mark´s black suit. Though he was without a tie, he looked formal. Jesse on the other hand choose blue jeans and white shirt, and a jacket. John´s chuckle was lost in the roar of the engine.  
  
Reviews, reviews. Go to the second chapter and don´t forget to mail me. 


	2. 2nd Chapter

All disclaimers apply from the previous chapter.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Crossroads II - Reunion xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Diagnosis Murder/ER crossover by Nicol Leoraine  
  
Second Chapter  
  
"Oh, man! I thought you´re working in the ER," gasped Jesse, when he saw the residence they were heading to. The gate automatically opened and the three passengers openly stared at the spacious estate.  
  
"I am," answered John feeling at least amused by their display of wonder. Yeah, someone has money, other love. He would change all his wealth for a loving family in a second.  
  
The inside of the residence was spacious, the walls in the hall were decorated with old portraits of the Carter family.  
  
Both Sloans along with Jesse, were looking around in amazement.  
  
"John?" Millicent Carter was walking down the stairs, in elegant costume.  
  
"Ah, Gamma. Let me introduce you my friends... Dr. Mark Sloan from Los Angeles, I think you remember him. His son Steve is working as a detective at the homicide, and Dr. Jesse Travis - an intern of ER medicine in Community General. Gentlemen, my grandmother, Millicent Carter."  
  
"Dr. Sloan? Yes, I remember few telephonates with you, when John was at the hospital, and later..." Mark, like a real gentleman, kissed her hand.  
  
"I thought your son is a little... younger?" she told with a smile on her face and Steve looked confused. Mark grinned.  
  
"Well, I just said, that sometimes I think he´s only ten. It wasn´t his exact age,"  
  
"Dad!"  
  
"Dr. Travis, I see you like our portraits," quipped Millicent, seeing the young doctor watching them. Jesse let out a nervous chuckle.  
  
"I´m sorry, Mrs. Carter. I´m just a little... surprised. John didn´t mention we´re coming to such a... wonderful place."  
  
"John, you didn´t warn your friends?" Millicent shot him a glare.  
  
"Sorry, Gamma. I think I forgot," apologized John, even if everyone saw the amused grin on his face.  
  
"Why don´t we go to the living-room, while Charles prepare the dinner,"  
  
The blinking blaze in the fireplace had an hypnotizing effect on John, when he made the drinks and sit on the couch. The Sloans and his grandmother were talking in a light tone, while Jesse observed the room closely, his eyes stopping at the family photo. John walked to him.  
  
"Who´s this girl?"  
  
"My sister, Barbara. She´s in London right now."  
  
"She´s a doctor too?"  
  
"Nah," John laughed. "She´s interested in art, not medicine. I´m the first of the almighty Carters who took this path," said John bitterly and drank the juice. He didn´t drink alcohol these days.  
  
"I heard the job in LA is pretty risky those times."  
  
"Ah, you mean the bombing?"  
  
John nodded.  
  
"It was pretty scary. We almost lost one of our colleagues. But it seems, that all big cities have their danger."  
  
"Did Steve told you?" asked John nervously.  
  
"Told me what?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Boys, the dinner is ready. John, some policeman wanted to talk with you this afternoon."  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
"He said you should call him."  
  
"It isn´t necessary. We´ll meet at the hospital, tomorrow morning."  
  
"Is everything okay, John?"  
  
"Yes," The conversation was quiet and the guests didn´t hear it, but Mark saw a crease of worry on the woman´s face.  
  
After the wonderful dinner, they moved back to the living room, talking about everything and nothing. Mark was deep in conversation with Mrs. Carter, as they remembered the life in sixties, while Steve, Jesse and John were sharing funny stories. The evening altered into night, and only when Jesse tried hard not to yawn, did Mark look at his watch.  
  
"Oh, I didn´t know it´s so late," he began to apologize. It was almost midnight. "We should return to our hotel."  
  
Jesse yawned. "Yeah, even those bumpy beds seems pretty inviting, after that boring conference we had."  
  
"Why don´t you stay here? This house is quite empty, and John and I will only welcome the company."  
  
"Sounds cool," exclaimed Jesse enthusiastically, but Steve nudged him to the ribs.  
  
"It sounds pretty inviting, but we don´t want to trouble you, Millicent," said Mark. They had been on familiar terms by now.  
  
"Ah, no trouble, Mark. I would be glad. John, darling what do you think?"  
  
John, who was a little shocked by the idea, coughed and shook his head.  
  
"No, it´s a good idea. We can use some company," his smile was a little awkward.  
  
"Our chauffer will bring here your luggage from the hotel tomorrow morning, gentlemen. I´m going to tell Richards to prepare the guest rooms." With that, she was gone and Mark turned at John.  
  
"I hope it wouldn´t bother you, John. We can call a cab and return to our hotel,"  
  
"No, it´s okay," smiled John. "I was just surprised. Gamma isn´t always so inviting. I think she likes you, Dr. Sloan," joked Carter and along with Steve and Jesse smirked, as Mark´s face turned red.  
  
"Pretty, making fun from the older person," grimaced the doctor.  
  
"Well, misters... do you want to see your new accomodations?"  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The hospital seemed empty. He was slowly walking through the corridors, abandoned rooms, past the admission desk without patients, without doctors. There was no sound, no motion. The lights were blinking in the rhythm of his heart, and the shadows were lurking everywhere. Anyone could hide in them. John took shallow breaths, his hands in alert, waiting for the attack that would surely come. His legs were moving on their own, shaking slightly, but leading him to that hated place, where everything started.  
  
And there was no one to help him.  
  
The noise made him jump and stop. What was it? The rhythmic melody flowed through the corridors of the ER, making John frantically looking around himself. He was trembling, the music was coming from the lounge, and he could also hear the voices of his colleagues.  
  
"Hey! Is anyone here?!" he yelled, without response. Turning for the lounge, his mind screamed all the warnings he could think up.  
  
Don´t go there! It´s a trap! Someone is waiting for you, with a big butcher knife. Someone is waiting for Lucy...  
  
John halted himself, shaking his head.  
  
"No, Lucy is dead. This isn´t real,"  
  
But the music was playing, and he could hear Luka and Dave, laughing. There was also Chen and Abby, giggling. His feet were taking him where he don´t wanted to go. The music was roaring inside his skull, he could feel the vibrations on the doorknob. Slowly, he opened the doors and everything went quiet. The lights were illuminating the table, where the cake should be, but there was only the knife, red with blood.  
  
"No!" whispered John in horror.  
  
"It´s her blood, Doc," said the voice behind him and he spun around, but there was no one there.  
  
"Going crazy? Don´t you want a little shot?" and the knife changed into syringe, full of some liquid. John backed into the wall, vehemently shaking his head.  
  
"No! W-ho are you? Where are you?!" he screamed in panic and sobbed, as something hit the wall next to his head, sending little pieces of plaster flying at him.  
  
"Will she live?" asked the voice of the woman, than shots rang out, and John covered his ears, willing the voice to vanish, but it didn´t go away.  
  
"What are you doing to me? No, you´re stabbing me! Stop it!" the voice of Paul Sobriki sent shivers through his body as John curled up and began to rock.  
  
"No, go away! Stop it! Go away!" he mimicked the words of his patient.  
  
"Dr. Carter - help me. Call for help, please,"  
  
"Lucy?"  
  
"Dr. Carter," he didn´t see her, but heard clearly the voice.  
  
"Lucy! Where are you? I´m coming. Hold on!" And he stood, shakily and walked out of the lounge. Because he knew, where she was. The corridors were blurred, but he could make out the numbers and signs on the rooms. He stood before Curtain three, hands on the doorknob, listening.  
  
"Lucy?" he whispered. "Are you there?"  
  
"Dr. Carter... help me," was her cry and he stepped inside. The room was dark and John fumbled for the switch. The lights turned on and John was facing the barrel of an automatic pistol. It was Sobriki, who held the gun.  
  
The cold grip on his heart was like death. John couldn´t move, couldn´t scream. All his insides were turning and he felt only the thumping in his temples, saw only the snicker on Sobriki´s face.  
  
"John... John!" Someone was calling his name. Sobriki let out a howl and grimaced, his finger gently squeezing the trigger.  
  
"Carter?"  
  
John´s head shot up, his eyes wide in the horrible anticipation of a bullet he saw coming. He couldn´t breath, couldn´t talk. The fear was too strong.  
  
"John! Come on, wake up!"  
  
Someone was there, shaking him, holding his arm in tight grip and trying to wake him. The hospital was gone, more important - Sobriki was gone. John blinked and let out a breath he was holding.  
  
"Here, drink it," a cup of water was handed to him and it took a moment to register the face.  
  
"Dr. Sloan?" asked John and looked around himself. What was he doing in the kitchen? He didn´t really remember his trip there, perhaps he was still asleep at the time. But why is Dr. Sloan here? Did he scream out loud, waking him up? Mark saw the panic and shame in his eyes, and sit opposite to him.  
  
"I couldn´t sleep, and I´ve this strange habit to linger in the kitchen, eat cookies and drink warm milk. I didn´t want to woke anyone by my pacing, and I saw the lights are on."  
  
"Oh," John felt a little relieved. "So I didn´t... talk or anything?"  
  
"Well, you murmured something, but I don´t think anyone else heard it."  
  
"I´m sorry, Dr. Sloan. I don´t really remember coming here, but I use to do it, so perhaps I did it on autopilot."  
  
"Don´t apologize, it´s your kitchen. You want to talk about it?"  
  
"Not really," was the reply.  
  
"It must´ve been pretty scary. I was afraid you stopped breathing for a second."  
  
"Just a nightmare. I´m used to them by now."  
  
"I don´t think a person can get used to them," retorted Mark and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out some cookies.  
  
"You don´t mind if I take some?"  
  
"No, of course not. "  
  
"Great. These are really good. You should try them, you seem a little thin for my liking." John only grimaced. "Sugar is good for nerves," added Mark. John took few cookies, and eat them without really tasting. He looked at the watch on the wall. It was only four in the morning.  
  
"I need some coffee," muttered John and stood up, wincing. Sleeping on the chair wasn´t the best thing for his back, he realized as the old ache returned.  
  
"Are you all right, John?" Mark saw the grimace on his face.  
  
"Yeah, just my back didn´t appreciate the nap. I should know better by now."  
  
"Back is bothering you?" asked Mark, concerned. John looked at him, realizing that Steve probably didn´t told him about the stabbing.  
  
"I had some accident few months ago. Hematoma around the lumbar plex. It´s okay now, but sometimes I tends to forget that the bed is better than a chair or old couch."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"A schyzophrenic patient stabbed me," blurted out John, while he waited for the water to boil. He wasn´t looking at Mark, cursing himself for telling him.  
  
"So, that´s the nightmares are about," said only Mark, trying to contain his shock.  
  
"Mostly," admitted John, filling his mug with hot coffee. He turned and sat down, his hands playing with the coffee spoon, making regular circles in the liquid.  
  
"But I didn´t have the nightmares for almost a month. Now they´re back, but somehow mixed up."  
  
"What happened this week?"  
  
"My patient get killed," answered John bluntly, not knowing, why he´s talking about it.  
  
"It happened straight before my eyes. It was a shock, you know. I just started to feel normal, maybe even secure in the ER, when this happens. A woman just came in, asked about the condition of my patient, then took out the gun and shoot the girl straight to the head. I saw her brain, Dr. Sloan. I couldn´t save her anymore. And in the moment I thought, I´m dead. That me surviving the first attack, was just a mistake, and someone sent her to correct it. But the bullets missed me, and I stayed alive. Once more." He felt anger and frustration. Anger at everything that happened, frustration, because of the reoccuring nightmares. He felt like being trapped in a vicious cycle.  
  
"Some things can´t be changed, John. I know that. I was trying for four months to get out of that prison - feared every day, that I can´t do it. Feared for Steve, because he was only recovering, but had to do everything to try and solve my case. But I know I´m grateful that he survived. Just as grateful is your grandmother and your friends. You can´t beat up yourself because you´re still alive. How many lives did you save in the hospital?"  
  
John was silent.  
  
"I think enough. And you can save more. I can´t help you with the nightmares. I´d enough of them to know, that it takes time. But if you need a break, don´t be afraid to ask for it. Don´t push yourself only to prove, that you´re all right. It´s not healthy," ended Mark with a smile.  
  
"Now, my old body need some more rest, before I´ll be ready to face up Dr. Robert Romano. My advice is - turn on the tv - it will surely make you sleep."  
  
"Thanks, Dr. Sloan."  
  
"It´s Mark, John. Uh, while I´m here - could you please tell me, where´s my room? I don´t think I´ll be able to find it myself."  
  
John laughed and turned off the light.  
  
"I´ll lead you, Mark. It´s on my way, anyway."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
"Malucci! Where the hell are you?" bounced the red haired woman on the crutches, waving with the chart. A wearily looking man with tanned skin walked from the men´s room, grinning.  
  
"Yeah, chief? What´s up?"  
  
"What´s up?" mimicked Kerry Weaver, her eyes blaring.  
  
"Your patient is up! He´s waiting for you almost an hour!" and she threw him the chart.  
  
"Mr. Pacewick? I sent him home. Why´s he still here?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
"Well, I hadn´t found anything wrong with him. I think he´s hypochondriac."  
  
"So why the hell did you order him to an x-ray and MRI?"  
  
"What? I didn´t!"  
  
"It´s in his chart, Malucci,"  
  
Dave looked closely at it, then frowned.  
  
"I didn´t order any tests for him. This isn´t even my handwriting! The guy´s a real nut,"  
  
"So call a psych consult or kick him out of my ER. But do it now!"  
  
John smirked.  
  
"This is my chief, Dr. Kerry Weaver. She tends to be a little cranky, after a long shift..."  
  
As if on cue, Weaver spotted him.  
  
"Carter! Grab a chart and work. Concussion and broken arm in Curtain 1. There are some flu cases and an oncoming MVA - ETA eight minutes. Did you see Dr. Green?"  
  
"I just came,"  
  
Weaver wasn´t listening anymore, she turned to Frank.  
  
"Get me Green. Where is Chen?"  
  
"Curtain 2, with a kid who fell down the stairs."  
  
"Dr. Weaver? Sorry to interrupt you," started John awkwardly, "I want to introduce you my friends from L.A. They´re working in Community general, Dr. Mark Sloan a chief of internal medicine, and Dr. Jesse Travis an intern of ER."  
  
"Welcome in Chicago,"  
  
"Uh, they were attending the conference at the University yesterday and met Dr. Romano," at the name, Weaver frowned. "He invited them for an excursion at our hospital."  
  
"We had a little "conversation" about leading the ER," quipped Mark and Weaver snorted.  
  
"I can imagine. Well, if you´re still curious - Dr. Travis, I believe that Carter won´t mind some company. Maybe you can teach him something. Dr. Sloan? You can help us with the MVA."  
  
"Gladly,"  
  
John sighed and led Jesse to the Lounge, while Mark scrubbed in for the oncoming accident.  
  
"What´s our first patient?" asked Jesse with more enthusiasm than John felt.  
  
"That concussion sounds inviting," sighed John.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The meeting at eight was quick. The detective needed only some details about the case, and wanted to inform Carter about the possibility, that he will be called to bear testimony at the court. John was only glad when the cop left, and he returned to work with Jesse. Dr. Travis proved his capability, when diagnosing an uncommon illness in a child. Mark was also helping, and after half of the shift was over, and the doctors had a break, the trio headed for Doc Magoo´s to grab some food. After the break, Jesse stayed in the ER (Weaver was glad, because Kovac was nowhere to be found and they was short of one doctor), while Mark was discussing with Romano.  
  
At seven, Jesse along with John, left the ER, parking themselves in Doc Magoo´s. Dr. Sloan left the hospital few hours ago, as he had to attend a meeting with Dr. Horvath, arranged the day before.  
  
"Man, I´m beat," complained Jesse.  
  
"It was a little crowded today," agreed John.  
  
"Crowded?" snorted Jesse. "Three MVA, two GSW and one stabbing. I don´t even mention that bunch of simulants, who were sitting at the admit because of a flu."  
  
"They want antibiotics, nothing more."  
  
"Yeah, and we´re soon facing a resistent strain of flu, probably mixed up with some deadly strain of chicken-pox. How can the people be so ignorant?"  
  
John only shrugged and waved at Steve, coming in.  
  
"We can´t change the human race."  
  
"Hey, boys... how was your day? Some exciting stuff?"  
  
"Nope, but we had a lot of constipation to deal with," said Jesse looking serious. Steve grimaced and both doctors burst out laughing.  
  
"Ha, ha, making fun of a poor detective, are we? Where´s dad, anyway?"  
  
"On the meeting."  
  
"And I think he will be a little while longer," quipped Jesse.  
  
"So, what are we gonna do? Go see a movie?"  
  
"Uh, guys... you go, I heard they´re giving some good thriller. I have some program."  
  
Steve looked at him.  
  
"The meeting?"  
  
"Yeah," nodded John. "It starts in a hour."  
  
"What do you say, we drop you there, and pick you up later?"  
  
"Don´t bother, Steve,"  
  
"Nah, it´s no problem," argued Steve and John nodded, not really feeling for a lonely ride through town.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The room was only half filled. John seated himself in the middle - not very close to the podium, but not too far away. The meeting was running smoothly, with the usual rate of tales about the human life and its misery. John noticed some new faces, but didn´t pay them too much attention. As the meeting headed to end, they all heard an angry voices, coming from the men´s room. The supervisor stood and opened the doors to see what´s going on. He quickly backed away, as an angry faced youth emerged, pointing the gun at everyone. His eyes were wide and John saw, that his pupils are dilated. He was probably intoxicated.  
  
"Get away!" he screamed, aiming at the man who was next to him, and kicked at the nearest chair. "Get away from me, you bastards!"  
  
People nearest to the exit quickly obeyed, while the others were too stunned to move, or simply too afraid. John was one of them.  
  
"Listen, Alex," started the supervisor in hushed tone and John realized, that it´s the same boy he saw two days ago. But then he was clean and regretting his actions.  
  
"Shut up, you bastard," yelled Alex, wagling with the gun towards the man. John winced, but couldn´t run. "You, it´s all your fault! Why did you let them in? They are trying to kill me, and you let them in!"  
  
"Who? What are you talking about, Alex?"  
  
"Them! The Shadows! The fucking shadows! Don´t you see? They´re everywhere!" As if to prove it, Alex fired out, two times. John was frozen in place, as one of the bullets missed him only by inches. The room was almost clear now - besides John and the supervisor, whose name was Peter, there were only two other men, and one woman. They were slowly making their ways to the exit when the boy fired - now they were all lying on the ground.  
  
Peter, an older man with dark skin and white beard, was trying to calm the boy, but wasn´t really succesful. John saw the sweat covering his face and felt a twing of pity for him.  
  
"Alex, please... put down that gun. Nobody will hurt you,"  
  
"You do, you bastard!" he screamed and shot Peter in the chest.  
  
"No!" screamed John and took few steps toward the injured man, when Alex turned to him, his eyes blazing with rave. John abruptly stopped and held out his hands, indicating that he´s unarmed.  
  
"Hey, man... relax. I´m a doctor. Let me see the man, okay?" tried John but Alex shook his head.  
  
"You stay where you are! Don´t move!" The youth looked ready to shoot, and John don´t wanted to risk it. He saw that Peter was holding his shoulder, and shook his head. Even in pain he knew it was too dangerous. John blinked and slightly turned as he felt a draught coming from behind. The people were gone. They crawled to the exit and left. At least, they wouldn´t get killed, thought John in dismay, when his eyes caught some movement in the shadow. Blond hair appeared then vanished in the darkness.  
  
"Damn, Steve...go away!" thought John angrilly. The youth eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"You a Doc?" he asked, voice high in panic.  
  
"Yeah," answered John, hoping, that it wouldn´t be a reason to kill him.  
  
"So you can get me the stuff?"  
  
"What?!" it wasn´t what he awaited. The boy smirked.  
  
"I know you can. Some of my friends get it from their Doc´s. You get me the stuff, and I let you go. Okay?"  
  
"But... I don´t have it here, Alex," John tried to reason, when there was a flash of anger on Alex´s face and with a scream, he aimed the gun behind John and pulled the trigger. It was only a second, maybe less, while John realized, that the guy is aiming at Steve. It was a reaction. He launched himself at the boy with a shout and knocked him down, hitting the ground with him. It took away his breath for a second - it was enough for Alex to kick him in the side, which left John totally winded and curled up in pain. With a ravaged yelp, Alex took advantage of the situation and landed the barrel of his gun at John´s head. He was trying to do it again, when Carter´s knee connected with his groin, and Alex let out a pained yell, curling into a little ball and crutching his private parts, sending all hell to Carter´s head.  
  
The gun still in his hands, he turned and aimed it at the doctor, but he never pulled the trigger. Steve was there, kicking it out of his hand, than incapacitating the boy with few short but effective blows to the head. At the time, John was getting up, massaging his head, but nevertheless heading for the injured man. He was checking his pulse, when Steve put a hand on his back.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah, but this man need a ride to the hospital."  
  
"The ambulance is on the way, along with the cops."  
  
"Great. Is Jesse-?"  
  
"I´m here," the young doctor crouched next to Peter and they assessed his condition. The shot wound wasn´t as bad as John thought - there was an exit wound and after the paramedics listened to him by stethoscope, they stated it´s probably a simple penetration wound. The lungs sounded good, there wasn´t any shattered bones. The man was lucky.  
  
As for John, he brushed aside the questions about his health and readily gave the police his statement. Thanks to Steve, he didn´t have to ride to the station immediatelly. After a hour of questions, they were free to go. John wearily sit into his Jeep, not protesting when Steve asked for his keys. As the car started, John winced because the roaring of the engine sent thousand of little knives through his head and side. He wanted only lie down in his bed and sleep, but the motions of the car made him nauseous. They rode for fifteen minutes, when he opened his eyes and turned to Steve.  
  
"Stop the car!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I´m gonna be sick,"  
  
Steve stopped and John jumped from the car, falling to his knees and leeting out his dinner.  
  
"Look at him, Jesse," said Steve. Travis get out of the car and seeing John kneeling, he realized what was going on, but though it´s only a reaction to shock. Only when he wanted to help him up, did Jesse in the lights of the passing car saw the strain of red running down his neck.  
  
"What´s that?" he asked and touched the place, John hissed and pulled away.  
  
"Just a scratch," muttered John, spat out the remains and tried to clean his face with a handkerchief.  
  
"Were you unconscious?"  
  
"No," John tried to stood, but his vision flickered. Jesse grabbed his arm as he swayed and led him back to the car, pushing him to the back seat.  
  
"You have a medical bag here?"  
  
"In the back," told him Carter and despite his protest, Jesse grabbed it. He opened it and rummed through the contents, taking out a gauze and a penlight.  
  
"What´s going on, Jesse?" asked Steve.  
  
"Your buddy here forget to mention us he´s injured," answered Jesse and shone the penlight into John´s eyes. He squinted and cursed, trying to turn away, but Jesse held his face.  
  
"Don´t squint!" he told him harshly. "I need to see your pupils so you better cooperate, or we´ll turn back to County."  
  
"I´m not going to a hospital!" stated John, angry. "I´m all right!"  
  
"Sure," snorted Jesse. "I see you taught him your pig-headedness, Steve."  
  
"Hey, is that an insult?"  
  
"No, I´m just saying that for a doctor, you´re quite uncooperative. Now tell me, are you feeling sleepy?"  
  
"Of course I am. I worked a twelve hour shift and had to tackle down an armed druggie. What do you think, the only thing I want to see right now is my bed."  
  
"Are you feeling dizzy?"  
  
"No, I´m fine," grumbled John. Sure, he was a little sick, but that wasn´t a reason to go to County. That was the last place he wanted to go right now.  
  
"Okay," sighed Jesse. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"  
  
"No," another lie.  
  
"How´s it I don´t believe you?"  
  
"Don´t have a clue. Can we now go home, please? I think few people can get a little nervous. It´s almost midnight, if you didn´t notice."  
  
"Jesse? You say - if he needs a hospital, I´ll turn the car."  
  
"Hey!" protested John, but Steve didn´t listen to him. Jesse grimaced.  
  
"No, they would only keep him for observation then send him home. That can be done in the house, too. Anyway... I´m sure that Mark will examine him," added Jesse with a smirk and John frowned. He didn´t think about Mark Sloan. Knowing the man, he wondered if it wouldn´t be better to get admitted at Mercy.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
On the end, John was glad for Mark Sloans presence, because his grandmother was ready to send him to the hospital, once she get a clear view at her grandsons face. Under the sharp lights, his skin was unnaturally pale and the red stain drying on his neck quite visible. Mark took one look at him, shook his head and turned at Millicent Carter, trying to calm her, because she was on the verge of tears. After few minutes of quiet talk, which none of the three men heard, Mark motioned for Steve to come.  
  
"Mrs. Carter want´s to hear, what happened. We heard something from the news, but there wasn´t any details or names mentioned. But some reporters were calling here. Can you talk with her, while I take a look at John?"  
  
"Sure, dad."  
  
"Good. You´re okay?"  
  
"Yeah, not a scratch."  
  
"Jesse... go with Steve."  
  
"Eh... I wanted to help,"  
  
"It won´t be necessary," said Mark, looking at John, who was leaning to the wall. He knew it would be uncomfortable for the boy to let the others see the scars.  
  
"We can go to your bedroom," suggested Mark and gently led him up the stairs, taking notice of the quick breath and grimaces along the way. Once in his room, John sit on his bed, leaning his head against his arms. Mark left him, going for his own medical bag which he brought to every vacation or conference for the last twenty years, knowing that emergency could happen anywhere.  
  
"Steve told me you took some beating. I think it would be best, if I examine you completely - to make sure that your older injuries weren´t aggravated."  
  
"Whatever," muttered John. "If you then leave me alone,"  
  
"Take off your shirt." John tried, even if it was hard to unbutton, when your hands were shaking. Mark helped him and supressed a hiss, when he saw the raw scars on his abdomen, and the red bruise building right below his left ribcage.  
  
"Your doctor should see this,"  
  
"Well, you´re my doctor now."  
  
"No, I thought the one who´s supervising your recovery. It wouldn´t be bad to do an MRI because of that back."  
  
"It´s allright, Dr. Sloan. I took only one hit. Nothing is broken and I feel fine."  
  
"There could be bleeding. I don´t know your case, John. Seems to me like there could be some problems with renal artery or with a kidney, but I can´t tell."  
  
"Look, if it will make you sleep better, I´ll talk with Dr. Benton - or someone else. I´ll have to go to work, anyway."  
  
"I don´t think so, John," argued Mark. "You´ve a concussion. And your BP is a little high."  
  
"I´ll do anything tomorrow, but now I´m too tired and beat. Please, Mark... I need some rest. Today wasn´t the best day of my life and I can´t face the rush of ER just now."  
  
"Okay," sighed Mark. "On one condition."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You stay in bed. Me or Jesse will wake you every two hours, as a precaution. If anything gets wrong, you´re going to County. Tomorrow, you´re going to County and see your physician. Is that clear?"  
  
"It was more than one condition," quipped John with a smile, but agreed.  
  
"Okay. Now I´m gonna talk with your grandmother."  
  
"Good luck," said John, slowly pulled down his pants and lay down, immediatelly falling asleep.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The night was pretty uneventful. Surprisingly, John wasn´t doing any problems and after Mark woke him at four in the morning, they even talked a little.  
  
"Steve mentioned, that you saved his life. I wanted to thank you for that."  
  
"What?" John asked, taken aback by the words. "I didn´t..."  
  
"The man was shooting, John. If you wouldn´t knock him down, someone would´ve been hit. It was really brave and really stupid! You could´ve been killed."  
  
John only shrugged, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. The headache was bothering him and he knew it will be there next few days, only slowly abating. But his mood was much better then the morning before. He somehow felt relieved - as if another near death experience helped him realize the wonderful opportunities the life brought him.  
  
"It was... reflex. First I was stunned - frozen with fear. But when I saw Steve, and Alex aiming at him, ready to shoot, I reacted. I couldn´t let anyone else get killed, not one of my friends. Not the kid."  
  
"Steve told me about everything, John. It wasn´t hard to understood, because there was enough informations in the news." Mark was talking about his addiction, of course.  
  
"I´m sorry, Mark. It happened, and I can´t take it back. But I know I won´t let it happen again."  
  
"That´s all I ask. So, you´re feeling better?"  
  
"Well, my head´s still throbbing," John smiled, "But I´m feeling better than in months. I´d stopped someone from getting killed, and it´s a good feeling. It´s also good to know, that I can help others, and not be only a burden."  
  
"You´re not-"  
  
"I know, Mark. I just felt like it, after the accident. But hey, nothing can change someone´s life perspective more than a blow to the head,"  
  
"Hm, I´ll think about it. Some of my patients may appreciate the idea," smirked Mark.  
  
"Better not tell Steve," they both laughed and when John yawned, Mark left him to sleep.  
  
The next morning, after Mark checked John, he and Jesse took a cab to the University, for the last day of the conference. Millicent Carter was flying to New York to open some theatre built from the Carter´s fund. John was sleeping through the day and Steve wandered the halls of the big house.  
  
It was almost ten and Steve got bored, so he prepared breakfast and get up the stairs to John´s room. After a knock to the door which wasn´t answered, Steve peeked in. John was still asleep, snoring. Steve smirked and put the tray with breakfast on the table next to his bed, then went to wake him up. Gently shaking his arm, he was rewarded by a grunt and John pulled the blanket on his face. Touching the tender spot on his head, he winced and opened his eyes.  
  
"What?" he grumbled, not really wanting an answer.  
  
"Breakfast. You know, we´re alone and I´m quite bored."  
  
"Geez, go swim or to the gym..."  
  
"There´s some pool?"  
  
John only rolled his eyes and lie back, massaging his temples.  
  
"You said breakfast?"  
  
"Well, it can also be an early lunch,"  
  
"What? What´s the time?" Looking at his watch, John quickly sat, instantly regreting the movement, when his brain turned inside out.  
  
"Gosh,"  
  
"Yep, this is why we didn´t wake you sooner. Dad told me to bring you to the hospital when you woke up."  
  
"I changed my mind. I´m gonna call in sick."  
  
"You´re already on the sick list, Carter."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, when you didn´t came in this morning, Weaver called here. Dad talked with her. Uhm... I think you´ll have an appointment with Dr. Green at... in a hour."  
  
"Shit!" cursed John and once again tried to get out of the bed. This time he was more careful. "That´s a thanks for saving someone´s ass. I should know better," mumbled John to himself, as Steve put the tray with breakfast before him.  
  
"First eat. Doctors orders."  
  
"You´re enjoying this too much," scowled John.  
  
"And you´re right," replied Steve.  
  
After John eat the breakfast, changed and somehow managed to get himself into his car without as much as stumbling, they headed for County. John dragged himself out of the car without much enthusiasm, and even Steve´s comment about some extra days couldn´t light up his mood. The walk through the ER was torment for him, even if most of the staff didn´t know about the incident, or simply didn´t connect it with Carter. So John only smiled, trying not to grimace as the headache climbed to extra proportions, and told everyone that he just came to get something from the lounge. Mark Green was waiting at him in Curtain 2 with grim expression.  
  
"Hey, Dr. Green. Sorry for the trouble... I wanted to cancel it, but Dr. Weaver was quite clear about it. Said that I can look for another job, if I´m not here at eleven." Mark let out a sigh.  
  
"Kerry can be a little overreactive, but after she heard that it was you who unarmed that guy..."  
  
"Not quite, Dr. Green. There was also Steve and... ah I wanted to ask, how´s Peter doing?"  
  
"Benton? Good, I think-"  
  
"No, not Dr. Benton. The man they brought in yesterday with that shot wound."  
  
"Oh, I think he was already released. Carter, sit and take down your shirt," started Green. "You´re here because of an exam, so quit delaying the subject. I can see from here that you´ve a headache. Sooner we end, sooner you can go home."  
  
"Okay," agreed John with a sigh and let himself be probed and questioned, but when Mark wanted to order a bunch of tests, he quickly refused them.  
  
"No!" he said vehemently. "First, it will take all day, second - I´m not going to explain everyone, what happened."  
  
"Carter-"  
  
"No, Dr. Green. I´m all right, I can tell so much. You ordered those tests only to satisfy your conscience, but I don´t need them. Now, let me go or I´ll leave AMA."  
  
Mark took a deep breath and let it out.  
  
"Okay. But you´re on medical leave for three days. And I want you to talk with someone about what happened,"  
  
"What?!" exclaimed John. "I talked about it with Dr. Sloan. I´m feeling really good, Mark. I´m not depressed or anything,"  
  
"You´re too cheery, John. It can be a reaction to the shock. Anyway - you talk with someone, otherwise I´ll not get you off the leave."  
  
John thought about it and get to a conclusion, that Mark could really do it. He grumbled the response, grabbed his coat and get out of the hospital, without saying so much as hello to Kerry.  
  
"I thought you´ll stay in here," joked Steve, looking at his watch.  
  
"I almost did," grinned John, immediatelly in better mood. "I´m off duty for the next three days. You can´t stay a little longer, huh?"  
  
Steve thought about it.  
  
"Well, if I could arrange my duty roaster with my partner, maybe yes."  
  
"Great. What do you say, if we get out of this city? My family owns a little cabin near the Canadian border. It´s in the woods, next to the river."  
  
"Sounds good," smiled Steve. "But I don´t know if dad or Jesse can come."  
  
"We will ask them. Even if not, it could be fun. I need a little relax and I don´t think you had much fun all alone."  
  
"Nah, it´s a good idea. But uh... what about you? I mean - you think it´s good for your health?"  
  
"Sure better than laying in the bed, totally bored and thinking about life."  
  
"I´m for it, man," answered Steve full of enthusiasm. He didn´t get much relax in Chicago - not at all what he had planned. Sure, there was some adrenalin, but it dissipated quickly. The duo returned to the residence and Steve called his partner. While he tried to coax her, John arranged for the cabin to be ready, and began the search for fishing tools and packing his bag.  
  
Mark and Jesse returned in time for the dinner.  
  
"We thought about a little trip to the woods, Dad. John knew about a cabin, and already arranged it. Care to come with us? Dad? Jesse?"  
  
"I´m sorry, son, but I´ve already arranged some patients. Maybe Jesse...?"  
  
"Cabin? You mean a house, not some camping trip with tents and all?"  
  
"Nah, Jesse, it´s a cabin. I don´t feel fit enough to climb up the mountains," laughed John.  
  
"Okay," replied Jesse, his eyes shining with excition. "I´ll go."  
  
So when Mark was sitting on the plane heading for Los Angeles, John, Steve and Jesse sat in the car heading to the north.  
  
The End The End  
  
Well, folks that´s it. This was a sequel to my first DM/ER crossover - Crossroads. I left it somehow open, so if anyone of you want to read about the trip, mail me or review.  
  
Author´s notes: I know there were gramatical mistakes, and I´m sorry for them. Please tell me, what am I doing wrong, so I can learn. Uh, as for the story... not much happened there. I would´ve gladly write about the interaction of the LA doctors with the Chicago staff, but I know minimum about medical stuff, and as this is a medical show, I didn´t dare to write too much of it. As for ER - I didn´t see the first few series of the show - well, I saw some episodes, but it was rather erratical, and I´m a fan from the seventh season and up. But I read reviews and scripts (hey, if you know about good link, where I can download some transcripts of episodes, please, write me...). Uh, well, that will be all from me. You have questions, ideas, advices? Send me.  
  



End file.
